Dream, Dream, Dream
by Stef with an F
Summary: Iris comes out with some...sensitive information concerning her hunt for the Streak. There are some things that can't be un-heard, but Barry isn't complaining.


*First fanfiction in a long time. There were just too few fics for my taste, so I had to throw my hat in the ring. It is a oneshot for now, and more will come if I am inspired by the rest of the season. Thank you for your time and for any feedback. I'd love to hear from others as enraptured with this couple and this show as I have been!*

"Barry! What are you doing back here already? I only called you like five minutes ago."

"Well, I was on my way for a snack anyway when I got your distress signal so… here I am."

She looked him up and down before nodding toward the dumpster and Barry reached behind her to take the overstuffed black plastic bag out of her hands.

"Barry, do you remember when I said we could talk about anything..?" A loaded question if ever he heard one.

"Yes, Iris? What is all this about?"

Barry lifted the dumpster lid and tossed the trash she was carrying into the dumpster while she fidgeted – adorably, he couldn't help but notice.

"Thanks, Barry. There just isn't anyone else to tell. And you've been the only person in my life who's never judged me…" He placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you in any kind of trouble, Iris? I'll help you with anything, you know that."

She finally looked up into his face, and the solemn slant of his brow stirred the truth to the surface. When had Barry grown into a man?

"Ihadadreamaboutthestreak...?" She rushed it all out, wincing comically and drawing her voice up into a question at the end.

Before he could finish his long suffering sigh, she shrugged his hand off of her shoulder and started to pace a few steps back and forth in the alley.

"Looking into this streak person is only going to put you in danger, Iris. What if this guy or girl doesn't want to be found? What if someone finds out it's your blog? You could lose credibility as a journalist, or worse!"

"Look, save the Dad impressions for later, will you? It wasn't just any dream, Barry." She turned to look him full in the face. Something in her expression suggested to him that she was blushing underneath her darker complexion.

He tilted his head a few degrees to the side in the universal sign for confusion and she threw her hands in the air and repeated herself. "Barry, a dream…", she murmered.

He blinked. "A dream?"

"Okay I know I am like a sister to you, but this is getting ridiculous! Even nerds have feelings….right?"

It registered in his mind with a near audible click. He coughed and stuffed his hands into his front pockets, looking down. The crew at S.T.A.R. labs would have been unnaturally fascinated with his hyper blushing capabilities. He was a fetching deep pink from the apples of his cheeks to the tips of his ears instantly. It was his turn to pace while she slowed down to stand a bit further away from the flies milling about the dumpster.

"Oh, ahem, a dreaaaam. A dream about the streak."

"You know I have killer intuition about these things. That red blur is a man, and I'd be lying if I didn't say the whole 'superhero' thing wasn't attractive."

Words were just beyond the fastest man alive at this point, so he took a step closer to her and nodded distractedly.

"But more than just being attractive, the feelings I had in that dream were so, raw, real; passionate. I felt on the cusp of finding out who he was. He looked at me like he knew me, you know?" She hugged her arms around her shoulders. "Well, as the dream went on we were on the cusp of some other interesting possibilities too… "

Iris pursed her lips inward to conceal her grin at the strangled sound Barry made as he turned his back to her. Wasn't she supposed to be the awkward one right now?

"But that isn't the problem as much as my guilt over getting so lost some cliché rendezvous with a masked stranger that I forgot about Eddie entirely. It wasn't until the hormone haze faded that I realized Eddie's good morning text is what pulled me out of the dream in the first place."

Barry had finally borne all that Barry could bare. Time slowed as he circled Iris in a victory dance as if she were the sombrero to his La Cuca Racha. How many cold sweats did he wake up from with the taste of her name on his lips? How many years has he been sneaking out of bed to do the laundry before Joe got up on his days off? All because of Iris, and she was finally noticing him…well the blur. The bittersweet tang of that thought sobered him somewhat and he slowed before her again in time for her to continue speaking.

"I don't think I can bear to tell Eddie, but you know how I feel about secrets, Barry. Look what lying with Eddie did to Dad. It was just a dream, for now. But what if I meet the streak some day? How am I not supposed to remember the feel of that moment?"

Still a bit pink in the face, he faced her again and grasped one of her manicured hands in both of his and sighed, "That is something that even I don't have a formula to. But if the streak really is a man then there is no way that he could not find you vibrant and gorgeous, Iris. You always are. If you choose to tell Eddie or not, if you see this streak person or not, be honest with yourself. Having those feelings isn't wrong, and we can't control our dreams."

He caressed the backs of her knuckles and cut his eyes directly into hers, willing her to read between the lines. "Everything will work out the way it's meant to, Iris. Everything."

She tried once again to reconcile the small lost boy, to the gangly teen, to the confident grown-up giving her more mature advice about sexual tension than all of the awkward talks she had with Dad, combined. Her giggles triggered his as they let the tenseness of the moment slip away. With ease, he tugged on her elbows and brought his arms around her. She felt so familiar; so unexplored.

With her cheek pressed against his chest, she said, "You said 'we' can't control our dreams, Barry. Who is this girl you've been dreaming about?"

He pushed out of their hug and groaned toward the heavens, "Iris, don't you have to get back to work soon?"

"If it wasn't that beautiful blonde than it has to be someone else, Barry. I still don't why I don't see her or any more of her stylish dresses around here. You made me a jounalist, you know. I'll find out sooner or later."

He held the back door open for her in a clear attempt to change the subject and hurry things along. "Well I have to eat sooner – think you could get the usual started for me, ma'am?"

She placed her hand softly on his chest, over his heart. "Coming up! And thanks for the pep talk. You were the only one I felt safe enough to come to with something like this. It's just another quality I love about you, Bear." As she turned the curtain of her hair swished behind her, as if to end the scene they just shared.

The complications he could see on the horizon were churning low in his stomach. She didn't know it, but every word he spoke to her, paralleled the words he'd been clinging to since the lightening. The one thing Barry could be sure of as he strolled into the shop was this – the Flash was personally going to keep the streets of the city quiet enough for Iris West to get a full eight hours a night.


End file.
